


Love Doesn't Age

by MattedZamo



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: F/F, Nicholas is a cute little one who loves cookies, but it's resolved real quick, don't forget to like share and subscribe you guys >.<, is this my brand now lmao, katya has a moment of vulnerable insecurity, slight men bashing, they're gorgeous and still deeply in love, they're women in their 70's, welcome to another fic that was started like six months ago
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-07 02:15:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18863689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MattedZamo/pseuds/MattedZamo
Summary: Trixie's been with Katya for 40 years, but every time she sees her, she still gets butterflies as if it was the first time meeting her all over again.





	Love Doesn't Age

**Author's Note:**

> being gay is reading your friends fic before they post it and then you posting a fic after your friend reads it <3  
> Thanks Steph, you gay wonder

Trixie didn’t think she’d ever get used to the alarm clock that tuned into the radio every morning at 8 o’clock sharp, and her days now started with the same of ‘I was right’. She still woke up at seven, only waking up later whenever she was sick. She had gotten a cold last month, the snot nosed great-grandson passing it to her through his 3 year old hands. It was two weeks from hell, Katya fussing over her and exhausting her with her restless energy.

Katya had woken up, yawning and stretching; Trixie winced at a particularly hard sounding pop of a joint of hers. She sniffed before Katya did, which they did every morning. “Mornin’” Katya grumbled, slowly getting up to rest against the pillows. Trixie could smell the marijuana smoke that clung to her hair from the night before, having transferred to the lavender pillow case. She couldn’t be bothered to change, much less wash, the pillow cases. 

“Morning baby, what are we doing today?” Trixie still let Katya plan their days.

“Think Marilyn said something about something during the afternoon or whatever of the sort. She’s always saying something about something I don’t even pay attention anymore.”

“Is cause you don’t pay attention anymore.” Trixie retorted, turning her head to look at Katya.

Katya clicked her tongue, giving off a soft whine.

“So what does that have to do with us?” Trixie finally asked. Her knees ached and she wanted to rub the pain away.

“Babysitting Nicholas today.”

“How long?”

“Whole afternoon I think.”

Trixie grunted in response, pushing herself off the pillows and swinging her legs off the side of the bed. Katya put her hand on Trixies shoulder. Trixie smiled gently, turning back to look at her woman. “Yes?”

“Stay like that.” Katya answered, a smile on her face. She stayed like that; their bed was high off the ground and her toes barely grazed the cold hardwood floor. She still doesn’t know how Katya won the argument to get the carpet in their room ripped up and the floor underneath to get the done, but she knew. She had let Katya win arguments more easily these past few years, and so far everything has been smooth sailing. Of course, she still debated with her beautiful woman every now and again, but it wasn’t anything serious, just to get riled up enough to get pink in the face.

She heard as Katya shuffled out of bed, yawning and sighing, exhaling as she stretched, ohing at every sound of a pop. Her feet padded lightly from her side of the bed to where Trixie was, standing in front of her in all her naked glory.

“Hello.” Trixie greeted with a grin, staring at Katya’s downturned, ever hard nipples. Her hands were cold, they almost always were, and she looked at Katyas face as she rose her hands to put them on her hips.

“Fuck Trixie” she hissed, her little belly getting sucked in harshly.

“They’re miracle workers, aren’t they babe?”

“They’re pieces of shit, that’s what they are.” Katya answered sharply, but her features were soft, the hands she placed gently on top of Trixies, softer.

“They’re my pieces of shit.”

Katya wiggled slightly “no, I’m your piece of shit.” 

  
Trixie smiled at her again “you are. My beautiful piece of shit.” 

She watched as she worked the first button of the flannel open, her bony, nimble fingers working the second. Her breasts rested on top of her swollen belly. They were still heavy, and they had sagged since they came about just a few months shy of her 17th birthday. If she leaned forward while naked, her nipples could brush against the tops of her thighs. They’d lost their relatively low sensitivity and the feeling just made her giggle.

In Katyas eyes, a little dimmer with age, except when she was in the heat of the moment, she saw pale seaglass cracking with mischief and carelessness “what is it you ragamuffin?”

“How come you don’t sleep naked with me anymore?” Her voice had gotten a little lower since the peak of her menopause. It was hot as it was soothing, and she was glad she was lucky enough to fall asleep to Katya reading aloud, to herself and the stick on stars scattered around the room, every night. “I like you naked.” Her fingers were done with the third button now, and she placed her hands on Trixies shoulders, playing with the hairs sticking out of her braids. There were four more buttons left done, it was a pretty big shirt, but Katya couldn’t reach them standing up straight.

“I get cold, kitty.”

Katya smiled, moving her hand under her chin tilting it up as she bent down to give her her morning kiss “come shower with me baby.”

Trixie nodded as she kissed, smiling when Katya giggled after Trixie smacked her ass.

-

The kitchen table wasn’t old, but Trixie was still uneasy around it, treated it with care. It was the glass top table, with a metal frame she found far to fragile for her taste. Their oldest, Natalia, just a year older than her sister Korona, had talked Katya into it, getting her mother to coo about modernism and ultimately, getting a glass top table with gray plush dining room chairs. Trixie wasn’t the biggest fan, she felt like they stained to easily, and would need replacing in a few more years. Most days, it looked like Katya was disinterested in the set, and at the right moments, just a hint of annoyance at its constant demands of maintenance. But she still fawns over it like she did the very first day it got there, two men assembling it for them.

But that’s where Katya liked to sit, because the two walls around the dining room had big windows, and the curtains were pulled up to let the late winter sun shine through as it crept higher. She had asked for Trixie to brush and braid her rapidly drying hair, kissing the request into her lips in the shower. She bumped her shoulder to hard for either of their liking the week before, making tasks difficult for her. It was easy to take over for her, and whenever she didn’t, Katya would poke and bug until she did. Trixie didn’t feel she had to care about hair as heavily as she did with Katyas, as she only had the top part still full of now slightly thinned loose curls.

“What are you thinking about up there? You’ve been brushing for eternity dollie.” Katya said quietly.

Trixie paused, the half head of hair still being held loosely in her fist. Even held up, it still tickled the tops of her ass, and she keeps it braided and crowned between washes. “Just...remembering when we were both blondes.” Katya scuffed and Trixie chuckled “we went to the same hair appointments after the girls were big enough.” Although the both of them had gone to the salon religiously to dye their tresses blonde, when their roots started going gray, they both let nature take course to the gray locks they have now. 

“Trixie. My braids.” Katya chided lightly, and Trixie went back to work, smiling when she could vividly recall how the girls would run to them when they came home from their hair appointments and lunch, giving them little bags of candy after each hug and kiss. They stopped during high school, but Katya didn’t stop giving them bags of candy, upgrading from fun size to full size, while Trixie just waited around and let them come to her. Sometimes they did, and sometimes they didn't. She was careful to wrap Katyas braids around her head to pin it, and was reaching for the pins on the table when Katya tapped her wrist “not today, I want them down for Nicki.”

“Okay.” She checked to make sure the rubber bands at the ends were secure,  _ two inches from the tip, Trixie.  _ They were. She placed her hand on Katyas good shoulder “all done baby.”

Katya rose from her spot with a sigh, resting her head on Trixies chest when she stood in front of her. Trixie kissed the tip of start of the divide where her hair was split equally “sit baby, i'll get you something to eat.”

“I don’t want oatmeal.” 

“I know.”

Trixie remembers, not all to vividly, when she surprised Katya with what she knew was going to be her now favorite mug. It was really big, they both had to hold it with two hands, and it was a black ombre, ending in white at the bottom. There was white splatters and stars at the black band on top. It stayed on the dish rack, since it was used almost daily, sometimes twice if it was a rough day. 

“Trixie-”

“I know.” She quickly responded, getting Katyas black tea ready for her. 

 

Nicholas wasn't an actual hassle during the hour Marilyn left him. The TV was set to a channel that catered to children during the day and the old, senile adults during the evenings. Trixie thought the screening schedule worked through age range, the younger kids got younger kid shows early in the day, and as the day went on, the shows became for the kids a bit older. But after 15 minutes, it didn't matter what show was for what kid, all that mattered was that Nicki was quiet and didn't mind sitting beside Trixies fat thighs munching on whatever cookie Trixie gave him from his little kiddie book bag. 

As every commercial came on, Trixie stole glances at Katya, still seated where she had gotten her hair done and when she got her tea and drank it. Around this time she would usually ask for her oatmeal with more fruits than oats and her coffee with more milk than bitter bean, yet Katya announced she would be skipping both. 

She didn't even want a slice of bread with cinnamon butter and some peach iced tea. 

Still she sat, watched as the minute hand ticked by. Watched as the flies buzzed around the top of the garbage before eventually getting bored themselves and heading to the bathroom where Trixie could easily spot the bothersome things. She perked up when their girls came by, and she laughed automatically when she saw Nicholas had tired himself out by munching on all those cookies. 

“Mama! He's gonna get fat! Now I'm gonna have to get him on a diet or some sort…”

Trixie swatted at Natalia, catching the edge of her arm with her nails. “This  _ baby  _ does not need a  _ diet. _ Insult me again and you'll see what happens.” 

Katya didn't laugh. 

The girls stayed all the way till the end of dinner. Trixie nor Katya ate lunch, never really did. When the girls were growing, Trixie would always be at work for lunch, and Katya would stuff herself with this fruit or the other so the girls wouldn't get the idea to skip lunch as well. Besides, who could really resist Katya's lunchtime sandwiches? 

They had let the girls order some Chinese, Nicholas screaming and running circles in the living room making the process long and awkward. Trixie tried quietly fretting over Katya while the girls were busy, but she went to the bathroom. Sat in there for ten good minutes and didn't even flush. 

Trixie left her alone all dinner. 

“Natalia how's work going?” Trixie was leading the conversation as Katya kept Nicki on her lap while he ate some noodles. 

“A pain. Literally getting underpaid to work with those  _ animals  _ that call themselves ‘men'”

“Watch Nicki, that fork is to big. How you've been liking the weather?” 

“Oh-”  

“Hating it!” Marilyn, Natalia’s 20 year old daughter interrupted causing Nicki to insert himself in the conversation with his own “Hate!” and all the women at the dinner table all scolded with “Nicki no!” and laughed.

That’s how dinner went, laughter and scattered conversation came from all but one, and that broke Trixies heart the most. 

-

After saying their goodbyes, Katya had taken an hour long shower, locking Trixie out. She resented it, no matter how hard she fought to not hound her with questions. She didn’t feel like cleaning up, she could do it in the morning, so she switched back into her pajamas and climbed into bed with a content sigh. Waiting for Katya to come to bed was a bit torturous, and she caught herself wishing they had a small TV in their room. But she stopped herself short, since  _ she _ was the one who was adamant about keeping televisions out the bedroom. She picked up the book she had been neglecting for who knows how many months now. She was close to the end, many three chapters or four away before it went to the ‘finished’ section of the bookshelf in the other room -a spare bedroom turned storage of everything they didn’t want in their bedroom- and she could pick another. She’d been eyeing the one that Katya had read three times back to back, but her concentration was lacking. Plus, she left her glasses in the bathroom.

When Katya got back to bed, she stayed seated with her back to Trixie. Her palms were starting to sweat with the intensity of the situation but she waited ever so patiently for Katya to lead the conversation. 

“It hurts. All the time it keeps hurting.”

“What baby? You're shoulder?” 

“Everything.”

“Baby talk to me.”

“They’re growing. My girls. I raised practically all of them and after Nicki starts school?” A sigh of exhaustion left Katya, floating and disappearing into the air “With school come activity, and then? Where am I?” 

“With me, baby.”

“I know that this is not what you want, to be stuck with just me. Maybe we should get a dog?”

Trixie stayed quiet for a while, the only sound she was registering was her hand caressing the bed sheet. “Do you remember the first fight we ever had?”

“What?” 

“Do you remember the first fight we ever had?”

“Trixie. What does our fight about Natalia dying her hair have to do with anything?”

“That wasn’t a fight Katya. I told you to think about Natalia dying her hair and you went off the rails. I’m talking about our real first fight.”

“Trixie. I do not understand.”

“It was for Natalia’s 12th birthday, the first birthday I was going to help you guys celebrate. I wanted to pay for both celebrations and you thought I was trying to buy you out. You accused me of trying to make you prostitute and I couldn’t believe it. I walked out the apartment and you were sure I was done with you. But here we are, 40 years later.”

“What are you trying to say?” 

“I could’ve walked out, I could’ve said ‘fuck this’ right then and there and left you and the girls. But every day I was able to wake up and see you, my stomach kept filling with butterflies. I can command any courtroom but whenever I saw you, I had no more words. I was always weak with love for you, and goddammit baby I still fucking am. When I retired, my thought wasn’t ‘ah fuck, gotta deal with this woman until I die’ it was ‘I get to spend more time with the most incredible woman ever made and  _ our _ girls.” 

She went to Katya’s side of the bed, where she still stubbornly sat facing outwards. Trixie sat next to her, taking her hand in hers, chub against bone. “I love you, Yekaterina, I’ve loved you for 40 years and I’d be so honored if I can love you for 20, 40, 60 or 100 more years.”

Katya looked at her, her eyes brimming with tears. “You cannot love me for 100 years Trixie Mattel.”

“Yes I can. We’ll live until we’re 189 and croak with our middle fingers to the doctors in the skies that we outlived.” 

Katya chuckled, watery and sweet, before kissing her gently on the cheek and resting her own on Trixies shoulder. “I love you, you stupid stupid fool.”


End file.
